Alpha Team
by maleV
Summary: Celebrating the first assignment of their new team mate, Alpha team teaches a lesson in who's on top. Suggested everything, MarcoxPiersxAndy, Nivanfield.
1. Chapter 1

It wasn't until the fourth shot of Wild Turkey that Piers began to feel a haze in the corners of his naturally sharp oculars. He blinked his eyes a few times, but he couldn't seem to shake the feeling. It had began deep in his stomach, a heavy warmth weighing down had begun to spread through his extremities like a heavy blanket. Andy whistled and lifted a calloused hand to snap his fingers for the waitress, quickly ordering another round of shots. Piers laughed, over Andy slurring his words rubbing a hand through the front of his hair, watching his behavior with a bemused brow. Shortly after, the curly-haired, homely waitress had sashayed towards the table as Andy reached to snatch shot glasses up in one swoop, placing one upon the table in front of himself, one in front of Piers; pausing as he shot a mischievous smirk over at Marco, slamming down the glass in front of Piers. "Come on, Andy! Quit dicking around before you get yours kicked by my steel toed boot." Even as Marco growled, Andy lifted his index finger and shook it, a tsking noise between his teeth as he leaned back in his chair, smirking still until his gaze fell down once more upon their waitress. Leaning back in his chair a bit more so the waitress couldn't see his face, he made a face and grimaced in obvious regards to the waitress' face, before pausing to cant his head and take a gander on her bent over ass while she gathered up a few empty shot glasses, shrugging up his shoulders afterwards, as if her ass made up for it.

"-Why thank you, sweet thing. All the girls 'round these parts bloom as pretty as you?" Andy clenched his teeth and did his best to give a charming grin, despite it being fake as monopoly money. Piers felt color rush to his boyish cheeks and couldn't help but shake his head with a lopsided grin. After the waitress gave Andy a very uninterested look with eyes that had been layered in a week's worth of eye shadow, she promptly stepped away; Andy smacking the table with his open hand and gasped as if he'd just let out an bated exhale of air. "Well fuck me sideways, boys, I lose _another_ bet. Piers Nivans actually puts another woman to shame by looking like a fuckable cheerleader and a Toys-R-Us poster boy had a baby. Not that i'm saying your mom fucked a kid from Toys-R-Us, Piers, I'm sure Marco's wife has that shit covered. Fuckin' baby maker." Snickering promptly afterwards as Marco balled a fist and jutted his middle finger out directly across the table in the direction of Andy's face, the man threw his hands up innocently. "Come on now, Marco, this is our boy Piers we're talking about. You don't want him to have just a few more drinks with the guys? It was his first assignment after all. It'll be fun, maybe afterwards we can play that game with the sleeping Captain, where one of us gets a pair of Roger's used boxers and a permanent marker, you know, the one where we draw a moustache on 'im and put the boxers on his head so he looks like that ... that," snapping, "fuckin' Norwegian muppet chef." Andy squinted his eyes as he pondered the ethnicity of the damned muppet chef, reaching down with his right hand to snatch up his shot glass as he raised it as a silent toast while Marco chuckled under his breath and shook his head at the joke. "How many more shots you think before he throws up on his shoes Marco?" Andy chuckled slapping an empty glass upside down and flicking it across the bar, watching the indignation rise on Piers' reddening face, while he fought with the conflict of laughing and scowling. "Its okay baby boy, I'm not saying you drink like a twelve year old." He cocked his head at Marco who was still riffling in his pockets. "I'm taking the under. I say two more and kid is out cold, how about you?" Marco flashed up three fingers, his thumb cupping his forefinger down as he chuckled, not bothering to look up from his wallet as he counted the bills and leafing through them to find enough for another round.

Piers, was still barely stifling a laugh at Andy's teasing of the Captain, his cheeks were rosy red, burying his face into the inside of his elbow before he calmed enough to speak, his body twitching as he struggled not to laugh. Lifting his reddened face to speak, he caught his breath and spoke in a humored tone. "Swedish, Andy. It was the Swedish Chef." Looking up from his arm, his gaze went from Marco to Andy, both of whom looked at Piers as if they were shocked. It wasn't often that Piers engaged in a joke poking fun at the captain, in fact, every time Andy did, Piers would look upon him with a piercing gaze that in itself demanded Andy to shut up, and even then, he would still grab Andy by the collar and tell him to shut it. Clearing his throat, he quickly quieted as Marco shot him a knowing grin. Andy, on the other hand, still stared at Piers with his glass in the air, his brow arched in an impatient manner. It wasn't until Piers realized that Andy was waiting for him to lift his shot glass that he quickly reached down to snatch up the small glass, lifting it in Andy's direction before both of them downed the shots of Wild Turkey bourbon whiskey. Piers slowly tilted his head and craned his neck to the side while Andy already slammed his own empty shot glass down upon the table with a resounding smack. Coughing a little to alleviate the lingering taste in the back of his throat and the burning in his stomach, he could feel the warmth in his body reaching down to his fingers and toes. Twitching his nose, Piers closed his eyes for a moment while inhaling a deep breath through his pouted lips, before opening them only to notice that the other intimidating filled shot was pushed in front of him, Andy already ordering another round.

"Swedish, Norwegian, it's a damned muppet. Anyway, as hilarious as it would be hearing Captain Redfield bark an order in a Swedish muppet voice, the last time I tried to prank the fucker, he sat me down and told me that if I could beat him in an arm-wrestling match, I could get a raise. Not 3 seconds later I'm on the ground with a fractured arm. That was the punch-line to his joke, but hey, to the grim reaper's credit, he did have a medic on standby." Pausing to examine one of his arms as the shots came, Marco had quickly grabbed a shot glass of his own to make sure he didn't miss out this time. Andy casually reached for the other shot glasses, putting 3 down this time in front of Piers. It had only taken 2 of the shots splashing against the back of his throat to suddenly make the voices around Piers feel as though they were coming from farther away, yet Andy still jabbered all the same. "-So while the captain and Piers are playing 'Rambo,' with that fuckin' nightmarish hamster-looking B.O.W., I boot the hell out of a door to clear the area. What do I see? Two half-naked college female roommates huddled up on a bed. Fuckin' jackpot, right? I tell 'em an airborne virus was let loose in the near vicinity, and there's only one known anti-virus, it's called-get this-'jīng yè.' Which means somethin' like 'fluid of essence' in Chinese or some shit, I picked it up in a magazine at the dentist, you get the picture. So, long story short, a little slick explaining, and the best 10 minutes of my life were 2 college girls going to town on my cock thinking it was gonna save their lives. But hey, they lived anyway, right? So no harm, no foul. Just.. you know, don't ever tell the captain."

Piers quirked a furrowed brow as he halfheartedly listened to Andy's story, noting the immediate face-palm which Marco gave while he laughed, trying not to draw attention to the fact that the captain wasn't too far off and gave a sligh head bob in his direction as a reminder. "Andy, you're telling me ... that while me and the captain were eliminating a hamst-a SOC-85 prototype, you were taking advantage of a couple innocent civilians?" Unfortunately, Piers' berating had significantly less impact as he pointed a finger of accusation in the direction of Marco, who responded by blinking rapidly and putting his hands up innocently. Groaning, Piers shook his head and snatched up the last filled shot glass placed in front of him, tilting his head back as he leaned back against the uncomfortably sticky chair, dumping the contents of liquor down his throat. What the hell, it wasn't as if it could get any worse, right? Across the bar, Chris Redfield had made sure to keep an eye on Piers as the kid went past the point of inebriation. Some people were lightweights, the captain was not. They met eyes brielfy when hazel eyes scanned for him, giving a small lopsided grin that Chris returned with a shake of his head. Chris was clutching a bottle of whiskey in his powerful fingers, lifting it to take a swig. The liquor stopped burning long ago in Kijuju. Chris' hulking, muscular frame was shrouded in shadows as he sat alone in a booth, his back against the wall, burly shoulders covered in a dark leather jacket. Narrowed eyes had kept on Andy like an eagle as he seemed to inch closer to Piers. If the joker had any funny ideas about Piers while he was drunk, he may have to put him in his place, he knew very well what his team's idea of rookie initiation was, and Piers had the unfortunate perk of being pretty.

Nearby, Rogers looked upon the brooding captain with awe and wonder, still star-struck by the fact that he was drinking in a bar near Chris Redfield, he was working for Chris Redfield! They'd been working together for almost a year and the guy was still in shock and awe. Piers snatched up a beer nut from the nearby bowl on the table and squinted an eye, he would have shown off by pelting the nut directly between Andy's eyes, but as he flicked the nut, it went wide. As the nut smacked against a young woman's ear just as she was about to kiss her biker boyfriend, she squeaked and clutched at her ear, the biker's eyes flaring wide as he looked around for the culprit. "So what's next, Andy... you going to have us play freeze tag, truth or dare, maybe some god awful game of chicken? And you call me juvenile. Or are you just going to slither into the bathroom and rub one out? Such a dick."

Andy's face was plastered with that shit-eating grin as he watched Piers and listened to his slurred words. While Piers managed to get out his words well enough, they were a dead giveaway as to how drunk the captain's golden boy actually was. Clearing his throat under his breath, Andy leaned forward on the table with his arms folded in front of him, watching as Piers seemed to do all he could to look sober, and it failed. "You know what? I think it is time to play a game. I would say truth or dare, but we all already know the one-eyed wonder sniper would cop out like a bitch and say truth, and expect me to ask what kind of milk he drank last week in fifth grade. So why don't we just go with dare? It's all in good fun, right? So how about this, Nivans... there's no good piece of ass around this place for miles. So I dare you, Ken doll, to man up and give me a lap dance." Andy parted his knees and thighs, patting his lap and giving a wry smirk while Marco folded his arms across his chest and looked curiously over at Piers. "What's the matter pretty boy, we've got an audience. Thought our little ace likes putting on a show. Come on." Obviously, the eagle-eyed sniper was not in his right mind, and was out of his element. Piers had never been known to back down from a challenge, despite the obstacles. Both Piers and Andy seemed to regard each other for a moment, as well as two drunk men could. Marco chuckled from his chair, watching how they locked eyes a moment propping his feet up on the table and crossing them at the ankle, mouthing something at his partner that got lost in translation, winking once.

Pouted lips made of the stuff of dreams pursed as Piers' glazed gold flecked eyes watched Andy. Already cherry cheeks seemed to redden even further as he seemed to ponder it over for a long moment. Finally, the cocky, over-achieving part of him took the better of him as he lifted his chin proudly. "..Fine. Just don' be surprised when I world your rock. Marco,... can you put on some  
music? No way in hell I can do this to Billy Ray Cyrus." Scooting his chair back, he stood up and shed the jacket that had covered his lean upper frame. Beneath it, he wore a white undershirt which fitted against the firm musculature of his abdomen. His belt had barely kept his pants up, yet he no longer cared in his inebriated state, and so the muscled V leading down to his crotch was quite visible, as well as the tattoo on the small of his back of the word: Sharpshooter written in cursive, the 'r' at the end looking as if a smoking barrel. Unable to see how Chris' eyes rested on it from the distance. Meanwhile, Andy pushed out of his chair and gripped the wooden table they had been drinking on, moving it to the side and bumping it against a table where a few patrons had been drinking cheap beer. Slipping back from the table in his chair, the legs catching on and dragging on the sticky wood floor making a hilariously ear piercing noise, almost tipping over backwards on the back legs as he tossed one to the back of his throat and held the other out between them. Each of the bikers eyed Andy dangerously, yet unbeknownst to them, an even more dangerous presence had been keeping an eye on them. Chris was the leader, and if it came down to it, he would be the disciplinarian to anyone who would dare try and attack his team. Andy snatched a wooden chair and placed it down in the now empty space, plenty of room for the golden boy to work. Leaving it there for Marco to join them, his arms leaned against the back of his chair while he grinned and waited, whistling at Piers as he took his jacket off. Marco grumbled about back country trash as he flipped through songs of the electronic jukebox which glowed. It seemed the closest he could get to a suitable song would be Ride wit Me by Nelly. One of the only hip-hop songs in the whole damn selection. Slipping quarters out of his pocket after digging about for a moment, he popped them into the machine, and pressed the button to begin the song and turned his head.

Timberland boots began to circle around the seated Andy as the young sniper never took his glazed eyes away from his brother-in-arms. Even as the hip-hop beat began to play, patrons sneered in protest at having their drinking interrupted by music they simply couldn't stand. As Piers moved behind the chair, he lowered a hand to graze his fingertips along Andy's collarbone, methodically sliding upwards against the shoulder until the pads of his fingers brushed across the crook of that neck and shoulder. Despite the fact that Andy never shut his mouth, there was a reason he was in the S.O.U. with the likes of Piers and Captain Redfield, he was good at what he did, and he was in fit shape. Finally, Piers stood before Andy, who already looked quite eager for what was to come, beckoning Piers forth with his index finger. Reaching down to grip at the hem of his undershirt, he lifted it up slowly while his finger slid across the hem slowly, the sculpted contours of his smooth abdominal muscles in view as they led down to that V teasingly pointing to his groin. Andy lowered his eyes to take a look at that lean stomach even as the shirt teasingly began to fall back down to cover it. Piers almost laughing when Marco came up behind him to cup the back of the rookie's neck to hand feed him yet another shot, tipping his head back and feeling the edge of the glass on his pouty bowed lips, the tangy liquid pouring down his throat and leaving a burn through his esophagus. It made his mouth water and his eyes squeeze shut before coughing into his fist, but it made his entire body feel warm while Marco slapped the shot down on the counter and handed another over to Andy. It didn't stop the younger man, Piers slidding down to his knees directly before the seated soldier and rolled his head back, finding himself being lost in the beat of the music, he rhythmically crawled up between Andy's parted thighs and paused as his head was between his knees, eyes ascending to stare into the other's while his arms lifted, placing his hands upon Andy's knees, teasingly moving his fingertips up until his hands were placed upon the man's muscular thighs. Andy swallowed hard as he simply watched the young sniper move as if he'd done this a hundred times before. Those hands which placed upon his thighs placing a bit of weight down upon them as Piers' face moved directly above his crotch and lap. Moving his face forward, the tip of his nose brushing against Andy's abdomen in an upward motion before his hips and legs straightened out, suddenly in a horizontal position above Andy's crotch on his toes. In unison with the beat, Piers began doing push-ups with his head moving up and down just above Andy's crotch, his face lifting once more to meet his comrade's while his puffy lips pouted just long enough so the tip of his tongue could flicker across his lower lip, before it pressed against the inside of his right cheek and bulged out suggestively, continuing with the push-ups.

Afterwards, the demolitions expert could only watch on as Piers dug his fingers into the strong thighs, tilting his chin down and lowering his head, his face slowly lifted as his face missed brushing against Andy's crotch by less than an inch. Continuing to lift his head, tilting it backwards as his back arched, popping his ass outward, the 'tramp stamp' in plain sight, as was the very top of the crack of his ass, which had suddenly become the focus of Andy's attention as he looked upon it almost hungrily. Reaching down, his palm brushed across Piers' lifted face, gently brushing his fingers across the sniper's full lower tier. In response to the touch, Piers couldn't help but grin inwardly as his lips parted, leaning forward to take just a bit of the finger in his mouth, his cheeks sucking inward while his lips slowly moved backwards and away from the finger, letting out an exaggerated sigh afterwards that was a dead giveaway that he may have been enjoying this a little too much. By now, the musk of Andy's arousal reached Piers' nostrils, causing his eyes to close while the explosives expert reached to grab at Piers' wrist, moving his hand directly against the side of his hard cock. "You like it on your knees Nivans. Make you feel like a proper whore... I bet you suck cock like a dream. Tell me baby boy, you want my dick between those pretty lips?" The sudden onslaught of words almost ceased the entire thing, Marco shaking his head encouragingly, watching how he looked to him almost quickly to be sure this was alright, though it seemed to wash over him as the music reached his ears, Piers was long gone drunk, but he was still young and completely inexperienced when dealing with these two. The luxury of being the only one not drunk was also being the one their little ace was looking to to be sure Andy was just 'talking.' "No need to look at him, keep those eyes on me when you're between my legs baby boy." Piers felt the pulsing heat through the material of the pants, but his hand moved away from his crotch, causing Andy to suddenly grab his wrist and once more shove it against his stiff tent. This time, Andy balled his fist around Piers', forcing the sniper's hand to slowly pump up and down around the tent, causing Andy to lower his chin and let out a hoarse groan, "There we go, tighten your grip and pump." Part of Piers' actually felt as if he could have kept that grip, that if he simply unbuttoned and unzipped those pants, it would be a hell of a lot easier to work at it, but his hand slowly pulled away as he struggled to catch his bearings. Marco chuckled leaning back further and giving Piers a reaffirming nod to Andy's lap, surprised the kid never lost a step in his haze.

Lifting his arms to place upon Andy's shoulders, he lifted himself and straddled his friend in the wooden chair, his hips grinding down against the other's. It was obvious to any who watched that Andy began to lose his inhibitions, reaching down to lift Piers' shirt, tweaking his nipples and causing Piers to grunt unexpectedly. Andy pressed his face against Piers' smooth chest, nuzzling his face back and forth, nipping at one of Piers' pectoral muscles, while his traveling hands moved down Piers' back and stuffed down the golden boy's pants, greedily groping at the firm ass while his fingertips dug firmly into the warm, fleshy cheeks. He felt Piers grind down against him completely unabashed and rolling his hips before pushing them forward, using the back of the chair as leverage, against Andy before Marco's hand snapped out, gripping him by the wrist and squeezing, drawing his attention with a chuckle, finding Marco's eyes trained on his hips before Piers rolled them again. "Slowly Nivans, slowly." The younger man raised a brow, nodding to him shortly before rolling his hips again, slower and more deliberately, feeling the heat in Andy's lap through his pants while he continued pushing comfortably down against him, gyrating his hips happily while Andy downed another shot, sharing it with Piers while he cant his head back, some of it intentionally dripping down his lips. Andy lifted his chin and placed his lips against Piers' ear, hoarsely whispering into it, "Nnnyeah.. we can take this to the bathroom, and I can stuff those cheeks with a real dick.. you like rifles, right? I got one right here for you to handle.."

Piers struggled with his own inhibitions, the hot breath upon his chest, the now perked nipples, and now the hands directly upon his naked ass beneath pants and underwear. Andy's 'proposition,' didn't help, his inebriated mind couldn't help but daydream the image of the agent he had scolded and stared down in training suddenly having him bent over the bathroom sink with their pants at their ankles, balls slapping away at his own ass with his own thick moans. Shaking his head to snap out of it, he slid down from the chair almost weakly and reached back to pull at the wrists buried down the back of his pants, pulling them away from his ass. He needed fresh air before he would do something he would regret, like sucking and fucking Andy Walker like a hungry slut. Alcohol was making him amazingly brazen, the memory that he hadn't been with anyone before this floating forgotten in the back of his mind and filled with instead with the idea of showing his brothers-in-arms that he could keep up with them. He shook his head, finally managing to turn around, his eyes sought the door, but Andy didn't relent. Piers felt strong hands upon his hips, and found himself being sat down upon that lap like a kid being forced to sit in class. He actually gave a surprised gasp as that tent of an erection Andy sported was suddenly shoving it's way directly between his cheeks. Reaching down to pull Andy's hands away, he would simply snatch at Piers' wrist and yank them aside again. "You want that don't you kid, feel my cock inside you. Whimper like a fuckin' girl I bet. Part your legs kid, ride it like you mean it." Hazel eyes were back on Marco, fluttering shut at the feeling of being completely man handled and barely able to keep himself from issuing a moan from the back of his throat, the same happy nod from Marco, who stood, grabbing a shot off the bar before pinning Piers' roughly back into Andy's lap, feeling his erection against him while Marco leaned him back until his head tipped against Andy's muscled shoulder, opening his mouth for the shot Marco fed to him, straying hands finding their way brazenly between the younger man's legs, clutching the taut muscles of his inner thighs until one hand rested between them, squeezing the fabric and kneading him, the younger man groaning and lulling his head to the side and hiding the full body blush that had taken over him in Andy's neck, Marco's fingers in his hair starting to tug him back. "Blushing little bride aren't you, open those cock sucking lips of yours and take your present like a good boy." Andy smirked, grinding up against Piers who was still rocking his body in time with the music, letting his face be drawn back to Marco who urged another shot down his throat, his sober scented mouth smelling like cinnamon as he leaned close and whispered in his ear. "Take it all Nivans, swallow every drop."

Andy was still rubbing, drawing friction between his legs. Andy hooked his own feet around the inside of Piers' pulling them open further to prey hungrily on him, letting Marco nestle a knee between his legs, the concern washed away as he let out a moan, swallowing the driness that took over his mouth over having them so adamantly lavishing affection on him, or the way Andy was rubbing him to distraction. Andy reached down to the back of Piers' pants and the waistline of his underwear, yanking down hard until Piers' entire ass was exposed, although his crotch still covered. And there they were, three B.S.A.A. agents in the corner of the room, one in a chair with a throbbing cock dry-humping the absolute hell out of another, with the supposed designated overseeing with a knee between his legs. Piers grimaced with inner-conflict as he felt the tent push up between his bare cheeks, pressing against his orifice. All it would take was the sound of a zipper going down, and that rock-hard cock would force it's way up his ass in front of everyone, and the scary thing? Part of him wanted it. "Come on eagle, earn those stripes." While Andy grunted continuously and humped at the bare, sweet ass of the sniper held firmly in his lap, Marco smirked, knowing that the two men were too drunk for their own good, leading pleasantly to something no doubt Piers would end up regretting in the morning; but at the moment they were like rabbits, and they were a clothing layer away from fucking, and at the moment Piers didn't seem at all to mind despite the blush he was unable to hide. "Andy..we should take this someplace else, old lady expects me home by tomorrow." Andy shot Marco a primal growl and a glare, causing his partner to clench his teeth behind his lips as he watched on while Andy continued his vicious grinding, nearly bouncing Piers' in his lap, the sniper actually letting out a shuddering groan.

"We're not going anywhere, right kitten, purr for me."

It was then that suddenly he was moved, not by his own, a burly hand had grasped his shoulder and pushed him aside hard enough that he found himself suddenly laid out on the ground on his side. As he lifted his head, his eyes widened at what he saw; their captain. Chris Redfield, grabbed Piers by the nape of his neck and yanked him off of Andy's lap like a toy; Piers looking very confused as he found himself suddenly bent over a table, forgetting that his ass was exposed to the world. Chris stood in front of Andy, his hulking frame casting a shadow down upon the sitting agent, and his eyes stared down at him with an unparalleled presence. Andy, drunk with bourbon and hormones, stood with an attitude to get in the face of his captain, before that large, iron-clad fist buried itself into Andy's stomach without explanation, grinding deep into his gut. He never saw it coming, he doubled over with Chris' fist still buried in his gut, and all he could do was vomit upon his own boots and the floor beneath. As he fell to the floor, Chris placed the sole of his boot against the side of Andy's head, grinding his face down into his own vomit for a moment before stepping away, Andy left gasping for air while his face was covered in all the contents that were once in his stomach. Chris moved methodically towards Piers, who had just managed to straighten himself out. Reaching down, Chris gripped him by the waistline of his pants, yanking them up to cover his ace agent's bare ass, and no one would ever know if the wedgie that followed, earning a yelp from Piers, was intentional. Snatching up Piers jacket, he draped it over his shoulders and growled a command into his ear that seemed to sober Piers up somewhat a splash of color as he looked down, adjusting his belt immediately, earning a nod as his back straightened, easing into his jacket while Andy still laid upon the floor, gasping for breath and sputtering at the vomit covering his mouth.

"We don't appreciate you faggots comin' up in here with your stink, shit heel." A metallic noise was heard, and Chris turned his head just in time to see a few patrons of the bar cutting off the way to the exit, the leader wielding a butterfly knife in his hands. Piers could probably be able to take a couple out, but he was too drunk to know if a knife from a spork. There was no way that Andy would be able to fight anyone in the state he was in, and Marco was unarmed. "Hey, faggot, you deaf? How about I cut you a new fuckin' ear hole? In fact.. let's teach these fags a lesson for their sin." As the leader of the gang flicked his wrist and flipped the blade in his hands, a few others had their own knives, and the few that didn't had found pool cues. As the first thug darted forward, brandishing a pool cue, he lifted it with a howl and brought it down towards Chris. Without any sign of effort, he brought up his forearm as the wood shattered and splintered from the impact, the biker holding now just a shattered wooden handle staring with disbelief. It was a moment of hesitation that would cost him,the thug's jaw giving a sickening snapping sound with the collision of Chris' fist against the side of his face with a right hook, immediately knocking the thug out as he fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes, teeth scattering on  
the floor in front of his maw like dashed pieces to a game board.

As the second assailant, bald and dressed in tattered rags, made way towards Piers, the sniper had enough sense in him to pivot his foot and swing a leg upward in an attempt to land a roundhouse kick to the back of his head, but missed and tagged his shoulder, cursing under his breath. Even so, the thug had missed his target, but still sliced into Piers' forearm, the golden boy falling backwards as he lost his balance, not even seeming to notice the blood coming from his arm, and he was likely not getting back up due to his own inebriation. Chris saw red at the sight, stomping towards the thug who had attacked Piers and was preparing toattack the younger soldier again, a 'friend' attempted to leap in the way and take a swing at Chris, however, the captain simply caught the smaller fist in his hand and squeezed, bones breaking as he began hollar in pain before Chris reached up with his free arm and brought the man's face down directly into his colossal knee, easily breaking the thug's nose and turning his face into a bloody mess. As the man crumbled to the floor in defeat, Chris finally reached the one aiming for Piers. As the man lifted his arm with the knife at the ready to stab directly down into Piers' chest, the wrist was caught and twisted, causing a snapping sound from the wrist, the drunken tawny haired boy making a grimace at the sound before taking note of the move, Chris grabbed his broken wrist and slammed his hand down upon the table, causing a loud scream of pain, grabbing the man's other hand, slamming it down upon the wounded hand, causing yet another yell of pain before Chris took the thug's own knife and slammed it down into the flesh of the thug's pinned hands that it went straight through and into the table, pinning the thug there while he screamed in complete agony, with one hand upon the other and a knife through them both, pinning them against the table.

It hadn't taken long for each to be taken care of in turn, and the barkeep merely gawked at the sight of a gang of men being laid to waste by one man who hadn't even taken a scratch, but that man was Chris Redfield. Chris was someone who had gone through hell and back and survived, a group of punks meant nothing. Groans of pain were heard of thugs laying upon tables and the floor, each of them clutching at something broken. Chris turned and spoke to Marco in a calm, yet stern tone, "Pick up Walker and carry him out,Piers get your shit. I want us out of here in 2 minutes, understood?" Marco could only nod as he grimaced at the sight of Andy on the floor, and did as the captain instructed. By the time they had exited, Chris had thrown down enough money to cover it, and the bottle of whiskey he'd neared leaving behind. Watching Andy slowly getting himself together and groaning while Marco coaxed into being upright he scoffed, "He's your team mate Walker, touch him like that again and I'll suspend you for sexual harassment. His ass isn't your play thing, understand?" Chris voice had venom in it, hissing as he draped his arm around Piers shoulders to hold him from tripping on his own feet, and shooting the younger ace a possessive glare. "You are never drinking again, end of story Piers." He couldn't believe he'd just caught his sniper giving his unit a lapdance and letting Walker and Rose antagonize him enough to get a good handful of him. Piers was brand new on the team yes, and he was the youngest, and Chris never gave him unwarranted affection, that didn't mean he didn't want to though; watching that display just made the green monster rear its ugly head. He couldn't have him, he was just a kid, a ordinarily somber and vicious one that Chris enjoyed watching but not touching, and the same went for everyone. If Chris couldn't touch Piers without getting it from HQ neither could these two. And a tattoo? When had he gotten that, it wasn't on his personal record from the military? Clutching Piers all the tighter to him he felt the younger man starting to drop his head to his shoulder, knocked loose from his thoughts when Andy pushed passed Chris with a thud, glowering at him, and shooting Marco a nod to follow suit, but it was Marco who came up completely sober from the event, hooking his hand around Piers' waist and keeping him still despite the frustrated look the younger man was giving him for having taken him from Chris' side and his captain's glower.

"I'll take him back cap. He's practically unconscious anyway and I know you've gotta report the incident. I'm sober enough to get these two back to their rooms. Motel is the opposite direction from the cops right, so I get it, its okay, I've got him."

"Bu' Cap'ain was-

"Yeah alright," Chris relented his hold around the younger man's shoulders, watching his stumble on himself the longer the alcohol had to work through his system. Chris would have rather spent his night dealing with what to do with those three. It wasn't the first time Walker had hit on a team mate, he'd do just about anyone with a nice enough ass, and Piers certainly had more than that going for him. Didn't help that he was grinding it down into him like he needed it just to feel complete. And Marco worked in pairs with him, damn voyeur liked getting a rise out of Andy and finding him people to go with. The fact was it was Piers. He was a damn tyrant in the field, beat the shit form his team mates at every turn if they messed up and in training he'd blown them out of the water completely. He was as good as they came in their line of work, but once they had him drinking it was clear as day what kind of person Piers was, the kind he'd never willingly leave alone with Andy Walker. "Just get him to his room and let him sleep it off, Marco. Anything happens to you three and I'm taking this out on you. Nivans," The younger man looked up at him happily, always eager at Chris' insistence, and biting his bottom lip. "Don't cause anymore trouble. Be good okay? Just get yourself back in one piece."

* * *

**Huh...**


	2. Chapter 2

Marco watched as Chris walked away, clutching Piers' waist under his shirt, giving his waistline a tug to hold them up as his captain's receding back finally disappeared. Curling his tongue and giving a whistle to his injured partner, tugging Piers along until they were caught up, stumbling over each other's feet. Piers yanking away with a whine, batting at Marco with a sneer and giving a shove, walking on his own beside the injured soldier. It took a moment before Andy realized their overly violent captain had disappeared and that that was what his partner had whistled over, his face tipping up with amusement on his thin lips, glancing over at Marco with a knowing and please grin, pulling a key out of his pocket. "Good job partners... Let's get our rookie back to his room huh?" Marco shared the coy glance with his partner that seemed to go right over Piers pretty head, looking between them both with narrowed eyes, holding up his pointer finger and running it across the bridge of his nose rather clumsily like one of those godawful black and white detective movies making Andy laugh and replicate the motion, slipping his arm around Piers. "In the know are ya golden boy?" Piers laughed giving a nod, tripping up on his feet one more time before Andy stuffed his hand round his hip and into his pants, fingertips brushing the muscled V that led down to his groin, feeling Piers immediately drop his head on his shoulder, gasping at the heat that transferred from Piers body into Andy's fingertips, the older S.O.U. agent more than pleased to know that Piers hadn't lost his swagger due to the bar room brawl. "Swear, Captain crabbypants loves ruining a good time. Man needs visit Rosy Palm, right baby boy?" Andy listened to a stifled laugh feeling the heat on his neck from the sniper's laugh, hearing Marco chuckle under his breath at lame attempts to keep their rookie walking along without question, moving in tandem with them while Andy continued to roll off the jokes that had Piers all but giggling when they came up to the motel, tugging him up beside him. "How bout we tuck you in golden boy, promised captain we'd make sure nothin' happened to ya?" Piers hummed quietly, practically asleep on his feet, propped against the door and starting to sink on his feet, Andy sticking the key in the lock after several attempts.

"Andy... sure you want to do this?"

"Shut up man. Starting to sound like my dad. Of course I do, you see how hard he hit me?" Andy jammed a key into the lock jingling them once or twice but the tumbler refusing to turn, swearing under his breath at its denying him, pulling a second key out and cramming it in, the lock sliding in its deadbolt until it came open. Piers mumbling about something or another completely unintelligibly, on how this wasn't his room. "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours, kid can't hold his liquor, right Marc? Better find something better to do with that mouth then huh?"

"Heh, says the guy who puked on his shoes firs.' How's yer gut?" Piers laughed, his cheeks red while Andy sneered a laugh, not so amused by the sniper's little outburst before shoving the door open from behind Piers who stumbled on his feet backwards until he landed on his backside with a oomph. Not bothering with the light switch, Marco flanked behind them, shutting the heavy metal door shut, turning the lever active deadbolt shut. "'m not ten boys I can...," his voice trailed off, furrowing his brow and putting a pointed finger to his lips, glancing from side to side, giving up while he hauled himself onto his feet that had pooled underneath him, giving it up as a lost thought until he felt Andy's warm hand under the hem of his white shirt, clutching his taut muscled abdomen in an easy grip, spinning Piers in his arms before going to work on his clothes with no pretense at all, literally tearing away his shirt until it fell off his shoulders. "Hey-" Words were cut off by a booze scented mouth crushed into pretty pouted lips, confusion washing away when his belt loosened, hands shoved under baggy pant waistline and filling his hands with Piers' ass, squeezing it.

"Come on baby, rock those hips." Andy ground their hips together, his mouth stifling Piers' groan as he squeezed, shoving him through the darkness of the room until he had him knees against the back of the bed. "How's about you and me finish what we started golden boy?"

* * *

_Chris cursed, not bothering to hide it as the officer pulled up, flicking a cigarette to the ground and crushing it under the heat of his boot, watching he uniform step out of his vehicle, like it could have intimidated him. "You're Captain Redfield yes? Christopher Redfield?" Chris put up a hand to stop him, giving a nod before uncrossing his arms from that huge chest and scratching his bare forearm, the bruise forming where the cue pool stick had shattered over his tough skin. "Good, well we'll try to make this as quick as possible, I know its a cold night and we all just want to get out of here... Bikers versus soldiers huh? Sounds like fun." The captain rolled his eyes, letting the guy talk himself to death without having to say a word, letting him shut himself up in shock when he entered the bar at last to see the ruined state of the place. "Uh... well... we might have to go over this... a few more times sir."_

* * *

The way their hips ground together one would have thought they were already fucking, Piers' head lulled back and lips agape letting moans fall unabashed, happy to continue the friction caused by Andy's grinding. Eventually peeling his hands away from Piers' ass to yank down the younger ace's pants until they were around his thighs, he turned the sniper around in his arms and shoving him forward over the end of bed. The bedroom light filled the small spaces of the room, blinding the other two as Marco crossed the carpet easily and stealing attention when he rested a heavy hand on Piers' back, drawing his finger along the cursive writing on his lower back, Andy watching as a rough battle experienced hand dipped their fingers down over round cheeks minute, Marco hypnotized briefly before laughing and shaking his head, walking backward to take in the view. "Look at that pretty boy, even Marco likes that fine ass." The man never got involved in Andy's little one night stands unless the girl was pretty enough, but it was evident he wasn't completely opposed tonight, particularly with the whiskey in his system. It was also plainly obvious Piers lost his tongue when his body took over, the same thing that had happened in the bar when Andy had him in his lap, the only thing left, the sensation of having himself thrown down onto the coolness of blankets, his arms spread wide, with Andy's thighs against the backs of his own, listening to the zipper of his fly jerked down and the rumple of clothing down his backside until they were kicked aside. "Grab some stuff from the bathroom Mar, there's gotta be something." Andy leaned his weight across Piers back, the erection he sport resting between those perfect cheeks while he whispered in his ear. "Gonna teach you how to take it like a man. Gonna fuck you real good. Pop that cherry of yours. That what you want, huh? Tell me you want it golden boy." Touch pads gripped Piers jaw, tilting his head up to the side to watch Piers eyes flutter open, stifling a groan as Andy ground his erection between those soft cheeks again, biting his lower tier. "Come on, say it, tell me how bad you want."

Andy shoved his mouth against Piers, cutting off any response he might have formed and instead demanding access to a warm bourbon flavored tongue, giving a sloppy kiss. It didn't seem to matter to Piers as his hazel oculars rolled shut again, letting Andy dominate his mouth as he ground into him, one hand on his cock and drawing it over that tight puckered ring that made the tone body beneath shudder with every grind of the hips, pushing back against his head, Andy threatening to push into him with how eager Piers was moaning around that invading tongue in his mouth. Marco emerged from the bathroom in time to cease his recklessness, his footfalls drawing Andy's green eyes up, wiggling a bottle in one hand, the other rubbing along his own concealed arousal through his pants, tossing the bottle to Andy. "Our little ace loves a challenge right? Think that tight ass of yours can take two?" Marco's voice was hoarse, rubbing himself for the younger man to watch, hearing the cap of the tiny 'complimentary' body lotion bottle snap open, the cold fluid making a noise as Andy squeezed it into his palm, stopping at the suggestion, his own indecency demand he not wait before forcing himself inside, until hearing the second zipper. "You can keep the lotion pal." Winking at Andy, he freed his own erection which sprung free with a sigh, climbing over the other side of the bed, his pants still around his knees, the pressure on the mattress and the sudden removal of the explosives expert behind him causing Piers to gasp at the cool air, eyes flicking open. "Gave a good show in there kid, but my money says its all a show."

"You shit!" Andy let out an indignant laugh, watching Marco guide Piers crawling up the bed, the younger man's tired heavy eyes smirking at the implication that he couldn't follow through, his partner slipping from his knees back onto his palms, nodding to his own lap, earning a laugh from the younger man who complied, straddling Marco's lap with one hand in his own hair, the other holding him down at the chest, gyrating his hips to music only he could hear. Marco slid his legs between the younger man's his thighs parting slightly as his finger delved up under Marco's shirt, fingers curling in when he felt two hands on his hips. Letting Marco guide his rhythm and tipping his head down to watch them move his hips together and grimacing every time their erections rubbed together. Piers gave mischievous look from under heavy lids as he rocked his hips down, and implied he was willing to work for it with slight curl of his lips. "Wha's the matter Marco, mad you didn' ge' a turn?" Piers words slurred easily, his own drunkenness apparent while Marco couldn't help but buck his own hips up every time the ace sniper decided to push his hips down.

"How 'bout you make it up to me by shutting the hell up and putting those lips to work huh?" Piers put his head back, ignoring Marco's comment, grinding his hips down again and gnawing into his bottom lip like a savior while they humped each other. Marco grunted between the rolls of his hips, "Seriously ace, get down there and do what you're good at," wallowing in the friction of having his cock slide between his cheeks, he was tempted to force him down between his legs until he felt the extra weight on the bed, Andy on his knees behind Piers. Tipping his head back by twining his fingers with the sniper's own in his hair, Andy gave a yank back so that he could kiss those pouty lips himself, pulling Piers up onto his knees to avoid touching Marco and sliding a slick finger between those round cheeks. Marco's hand was immediately on his own cock, rubbing one out watching Piers over his waist, groaning as Andy pushed his lotion slick finger inside that sweet delicious heat, muffling the complaints as he worked his finger deeper with each shallow thrust, in and out over again, liberally apply what lotion he'd gotten from the bottle. "Kids a virgin Andy, go slower..." A jutted fist and a middle finger gave Marco what his partner thought of that, pulling his finger out and rubbing around that ring of perverse pleasure, biting into Piers upper tier as he shoved his index and middle finger in together, forcing a sharp exhale from the younger man, Andy clapping a hand over his mouth to stop the noise of ache and discomfort.

"Golden boy wanted this remember? Fuck, look at me being all nice and getting you ready instead o' just funkin' you." Fingers twisted and spread, feeling the muscle clench every time he thrust them them deeper, stretching them and working him until Piers was practically whimpering against Andy's mouth, Marco reaching out with his opposite hand, tough pads finding a pert nipple and pinch it without remorse, letting the depraved moan tumble from his lips. "There we go, like that? Damn I'm gonna enjoy this." Andy chuckled, eying his partner as he leaned up off the bed and sealed his lips around the perked bud, suckling at it and flicking his tongue over it, to produce more gasps from the sniper. "See there, Marco doesn't touch on a normal basis, like that tongue on you? Tell him you like it..."

"I- I like it..." Piers gasped out between strangled breathes, Andy parting his fingers just as his lips formed the inebriated sentence, at this point only capable of repeating Andy's little coaxings while his fingers dragged out, and then back inside him, Piers muscled frame constricted between the two older S.O.U agents.

"Weak. You want my dick in you, you'll open that mouth and beg for it like a proper little whore. Tell him you want him to-" Andy stopped talking, chuckling huskily when Piers' hand found Marco's head instead, holding him there as his body arched against Andy's hand, a hoarse grunt managing between his lips as Marco starting biting and sucking in succession. "That's right, good boy." Marco's other hand working himself harder, massaging that nub with his tongue and teeth until he finally jerked away, falling back on the bed, neglecting himself to grip Piers hips, the two fighting for control over the situation. "Now who's impatient partner?" Andy laughed despite the grumps, biting down on Piers' bare neck, pleased all the more when he pulled his fingers out and a unbidden plea silenced on abused lips. "There we go pretty boy, that's what I want to hear, don't stop," immediately rewarding him by pressing them back in as deep as they'd go, scissoring his fingers deep inside him until Piers was rolling his hips, trying to get deeper on those two fingers, repeating Andy's citation in a rasping tenor almost weakly, "Please don' stop." He was whimpering out the words by the time Andy started teasing that bunch of nerves, clutching him to him tighter every time Piers gasped, rubbing his tough pads and driving them against it, spurred on by the racy sounds it earned him, refusing to relent until the younger man was nearly fucking himself against Andy's fingers.

Marco snarled, his teeth showing in the shitty amber lamp light of the motel as Andy continued to run his mouth, teasing more moaned pleas out of the youngest of them, regarding the other finally when he kicked his leg against them, "Just do it already bro..." He was breathing hard and grinding his teeth antagonizing Andy who gave the shut-the-hell-up snarl, giving an coy nod, never stopping the banter in Piers' ear as he systematically shifted him how he wanted, "Want that cock up that tight ass of yours, don't you? Pretty little virgin boy," gripping Piers' right thigh with his free hand, while Marco gripped the base of his throbbing member, Marco pushing the tip against the slick entrance and nudging, impatiently thrusting his hips upward seeking purchase despite his partner's hand impeding, brows furrowed as he silently insisted from his partner. Andy begrudgingly removed those lotion slick digits from Piers' ass, Piers gasping objection from the way he'd seductively urged him to the point of orgasm only to unceremoniously shoving the younger man down by the shoulders, practically impaling that ass on Marco's cock, issuing a choked howl of pain. Marco's bass voice grunted out in a hiss when Piers body instinctively clenched around his girth, pitching backward into Andy's arms, that held him upright pushing him down further on Marco despite the struggle of the slimmer body, forcing silence on him by returning the hand over his mouth. "Come on, rock those talented hips of yours. Captain's little golden boy likes it hard up the ass. Maybe that's what you want huh? Should let him have a go at this so he can stop bitching at us, eh Marc. Just give it a minute kid, you'll like it." Andy was growling, one arm around lithe shoulders, pinning arms to his body, and the other grazing the cursive tattoo, digging his finger into it while holding him flush to Marco's groin who sought to shift beneath him, hoping to cram himself into the tight heat that slowly became accustomed to the girth filling him.

Andy was drowning out Piers throaty cries with his own talking, eventually starting to lift him, Marco letting his partner do the job of fucking Piers with his dick. "Tight right bro, how's it feel taking pretty boy's cherry?" In response there was only a series of deeply ragged grunts, pumping into Piers when he shifted of his own accord, "There we go...," Andy slowly relented his grip on the sniper's sweat slick body when he put his hands on Marco's chest, heaving while grinding his own hips against him and tossing his head back, letting the alcohol induced lust finally wash over him to drop unfettered breaths from his mouth, clenching his jaw whenever the man under him would buck into him, cramming their hips together; ignoring entirely the salty tears that mixed with the sweat sliding down his jawline. "Think Marco's big, just wait golden boy-" Andy was smirking, rubbing himself watching where his partner's cock slipping in and out viciously, drifting the hand that had been cupping one of his ass cheeks to press his finger up along the muscle that relented to Marco's penis over again, pushing it inside him when Marco pushed him down against it, a cry escaping Piers' lips while he rocked his hips. "Didn' think I was going to let him have all the fun did you? Come on, put on show for me kid, get that body movin.' I wanna see you fuck yourself on him. See how much you can take"

Another finger threatened when Piers shoved down against it, hissing at the invasion of his body the insisting fullness his body kept protesting, "Don't you... don't you ever shut up Walker.." Piers tenor voice rasped out in a fierce growl, shooting a look over his shoulder that if they were on the field might have shot the fear of God into his head, sneering instead and nudging the fingers that were inside him to remind Piers who was in charge. It didn't seem to bother him at all the redness of Piers' eyes due to the tears or the alcohol, while Piers seemed to wake from his own haze, the throbbing ache in his backside turning to a dull roar in his ears, his formerly straining hard on completely flagged, arching his back and pushing his ass back just the slightest so Andy got his better view of gyrating his hips over Marco to the point where the dark haired man started swearing relentlessly, Piers bowed lips twisting into a slight smirk at the corners as the sheen of sweat had stolen over him, staggered breathing hitching every time that cock inside him seemed to swell from anticipation. "What do you think soldier... gotta suck,... always being on your back around me..." Piers forced a chuckle at Marco's growl, his face twisting to concentration when he felt Andy slide a hand up to cup his neck, shoving him forward and watching the well toned muscles in Piers back tighten as he shifted in his skin, until Marco could lick the sweat off him they were so flush.

"There's our ace huh? Back from the inebriated dead," Andy laughed, kneeling behind the two and pulling his invading fingers out to run the rim of that stretched muscle that Marco continued to abuse with easy thrusts. "What do you think Rose, you like him mouthy or quiet? Because I think I liked him better begging like a slut." Nothing but a grunt, Piers' thighs parting further as he sank down against him with Andy's hand on his spine, feeling the nudged head of the mouthier man's cock against his already filled orifice and hedging, the movements of either completely devoid of rhythm and instead just erratic stuttered thrusting, persuaded deeper by Marco's insistence when he felt his partner in crime. "Shut up and take it for once Nivans, or is it you can't handle it?" Reaching forward, he slapped his hand around Piers' mouth, muffling his cry when Andy pushed in his head, the stretch of that tight ring unbearable as his cock slid against his partner's with a grimace. It went passed pleasantly tight and became overbearing full; inch by inch, rocking his hips so that he was forcing Piers to take it, Marco digging his fingers into his hips to hold him still from pitching off them, despite nails gauging marks into his pecs. "Awww, if perfect soldier Piers crying like a fuckin' girl, just like I said huh Mar..." Andy grunted out his words, the rigid groan forming in Piers chest caught against the hand clasped over his face, restricting his forced breathing. It was obvious from the muffled cries that hoarsely dragged from the pits of Piers lungs that it was already too much for him, Andy rolling his eyes and forcing Piers' head back and his back to arch while he shoved in another inch. "Fuck yes!" There ya go pretty boy, take it like a man, quit your crying."

* * *

_"Alright Captain... well I appreciate your time...," The sergeant was screwing up his face with pursed lips and furrowed brows, making a scrunchy face for a minute while Chris rolled his eyes, ignoring the fat man. He didn't bother reciprocating a thanks, since it wasn't his damn fault that the three musketeers decided to be shit heads and get him into a war with these bikers. Course it was his job as captain to take care of it. So according to the report Captain Chris Redfield had done the actions as represented... and sealed he record with authority of a phone call to their supervisory agent, Ms. Jill Valentine. She had read the cop the riot act for questioning men on classified duty, even though their mission ended officially 13 hours ago. She was good for that though. He'd have to let her know what really happened eventually, but at least that was over._

* * *

**Outta control anyone? Drunk Piers getting in over his head me thinks.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

After the officer had quietly lowered the phone, having been given a tongue lashing by none other than Jill Valentine, Chris kept his stern gaze upon the face of the cop, reaching in his jacket pocket for a dented pack of Marlboro cigarettes. Never taking his gaze away, he was in the dominating mood, and this little fucker was just the beginning. Sniffing once before plucking a cigarette out and placing it betwixt his lips, he dug into the pockets of his jeans, retrieving a zippo lighter. Of course, no one was allowed to light up a cigarette indoors, but the cop no longer had the guff to even attempt to reprimand the muscular captain. Inhaling deeply, he reached up to pluck the cigarette from his lips to blow it in the cop's direction. "The next time you waste Supervisor Valentine's time? I'll be the one talking, and pigs don't seem to like when my fists talk." Slowly lifting the cigarette back to his lips, he turned on the heel of his hunter green combat boot, beginning the long walk back to his room. Jill Valentine had been the only person in the world that knew him best, that could say the right things to calm him down when his dangerous temper took hold. In another time, another place, she might have made him a perfect wife, but this sure as hell wasn't that perfect world. Disciplinary action would be taken against the three stooges that nearly created an angry mob due to their inexcusable behavior.

Piers immediately came to mind as his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, the kid was too cocksure. In his own youth, Chris never felt the need to prove himself to others, he let his actions do the talking, and if his superiors disagreed with his sense of morality and duty? Tough shit. It was the undoubtedly the reason he was discharged from the U.S. Air Force, despite his stellar performance in the field. Piers would learn, in time, that to be a leader, you had to pick your fights. He had the makings of a great leader, even though no one else could see it yet. Prominent brows furrowed as the image of Andy humping that bare ass in the bar lingered in his mind, and to make it worse, Piers was enjoying it. Narrowing his eyes at the thought of that, he knew that Piers had been under the influence, in fact, he watched every shot that was given to him. Piers would need to learn how to avoid being provoked so easily, before something bad happened. No alcohol for that kid ever again. He'd lost it completely climbing into Andy's lap like that. It began to drizzle from the sky, and he paused to lift his rugged countenance, closing his eyes as the moisture was felt against his face. Smoke still rose from the cigarette, now half smoked, between his lips as he strode quietly down the row of doors, turning his head for a moment as the slightest sound reached his keen ears. Waiting for a moment, it was silent again as he tilted his head quietly, making way towards his front door before the sound came again, this time, a bit louder, it was the sound of a young man sobbing, and it came from his _goddamn_ room. Quickly digging for his key within pockets, he unlocked the deadbolt and stood beside the door in silence. As quietly as he could, he reached his hand to turn the handle, opening the door inward just slightly before he quickly stood before the door, lifting a leg to boot the door open. It sounded like thunder, and he stepped forward as his hard gaze quickly registered what was happening.

* * *

"Ugh! ... Fuck Mar', you believe this? We're makin' the fuckin' 'chosen one' cry like a bitch! Let's hear it, you overachieving little shit, you love my meat between those plump cheeks. Fuckin' say it!" As Andy spoke, Piers' eyes rolled in the back of his head at the feeling of dual dicks stretching his puckered orifice. His head tilted back by the forceful hand of Andy, his own hands twitched, clenching and unclenching as the muffled sounds he made were no longer the thick moans from earlier when his prostate had been rubbed not only by fingers, but by Marco's dick hammering against it with hot, throbbing flesh. His sounds now were pathetic, trembling grunts followed by gurgling as the corners of his mouth were wet, his saliva moistening Andy's fingers. Andy laughed with genuine delight as he began stuffing himself even deeper, his own mouth opening as he began to feel a knot in his lower stomach and loins, the inside of Piers' bowels squeezing down and hugging the two cocks in a humiliating attempt to welcome the invading cocks. "Ah.. that's it.. that's it. Mar', mmmm..you ready? I'm about to blow a thick load right up the boy wonder's a-." It was then that the door had been kicked open, and both Andy and Marco turned their heads with deer-in-headlights expressions to look upon the sight of their captain looking at them. Andy blinked rapidly as his cock felt as if it suddenly grew 2 sizes smaller, clearing his throat under his breath as he moved to pull away from Piers, Marco already fiddling with his pants, though it would be hopeless for either men to hide their rock-hard erections. "Cap.. uh, Marco, Piers and I.. we were all just fuckin' around, you know? Blown' off some steam after the bar.. that's all."

Chris was silent as death, staring at the three men as Piers crying out as they finally released him, struggled to catch his breath and collapsed to the side. Placing a burly hand against the open door, he slammed it shut behind him, locking the deadbolt with the same hand. Now they were all trapped in a China shop, and he was the bull. Maintaining his composure, his expression was deadpan as he blew a cloud of smoke from the corner of his lips, ash from the cigarette falling to the floor in front of him. Who gave a shit about smoking inside now? Colossal shoulders rotated backwards in a smooth motion as the dark leather jacket he wore slid off his impressive upper-frame. After discarding the jacket, a tight, emerald-hued undershirt fitted against his sculpted pectorals and washboard abdomen. This was sick, it was wrong, and it was the last straw. For too long, he witnessed horrors committed against men and women he cared for, and it hardened him not just as a soldier, but as a man. To see men he fought alongside taking advantage of a young man he took under his wing, it brought a shadow to his already stern gaze, and the tone of his voice was absolutely dangerous. "You want to know what sick fun really is, boys? Daddy knows best."

Reaching up with a muscular arm, the bruise upon his forearm apparent, he plucked the near-spent cigarette from his lips and stepped towards Marco, who immediately lifted his arms in self-defense mode. Chris had specifically given Marco the responsibility of ensuring Piers' safety to his room, and instead he took Piers' innocence. Those two knew how to ruin everything, take something good like Piers Nivans and get him knock down drunk and steal everything that was meant for him. An animal instinct took over that demanded something of himself, he wasn't just going to punish these men for having sex with Piers, he was going to make them wish they never took what rightfully belonged to him. Marco's actions were obviously reluctant, but he swung a right hook that collided with Chris' rock of a chin, barely causing his head to turn. Marco cursed at the dull, throbbing pain in his fingers, and Chris took advantage of the distraction, grabbing the back of Marco's head, he drove his knee hard enough into Marco's gullet to bend him over his knee, gulping for breath. The man took harder from Albert Wesker and remained steadfast, Marco would have been better off just pointing his finger to Andy rather than taking the swing. Chris kept a powerful hand on the back of his neck to keep him bent over and reached down to yank down the back of his pants, Marco's own bare ass exposed. "Don't you like playing, Marco? I'll tell you what, I'll give HQ a call, send you to the center of Afghanistan. I'll pay your old lady a visit, show her the difference between your pencil dick and my piece of meat." Marco finally began to catch his breath as he shook his head and gasped to apologize in any way he could, right up until he felt the burning end of a cigarette shoved into the sensitive flesh right between his anus and his balls. Chris clasped his other hand firmly over Marco's mouth as he screamed, and he did scream. Chris ground the burning cigarette into the flesh just under Marco's scrotum before allowing the smoking butt of the cigarette to fall to the floor. Marco soon collapsed into a ball, wailing in pain.

"I'm only going to say it once, Marco. Give me your belt, or the first kid you ever raise will be courtesy of me having your wife with her face in the pillow on your bed. Your choice." Andy could only watch what the captain did to Marco with a wary expression, his gaze flickering to from the captain to the door. Piers was still trying to recover from the assault of two throbbing cocks being stuffed up his virgin ass, laying on his side, his watery eyes lifted to look upon the captain as he lifted a hand to wipe his eyes. Chris hadn't even looked upon Marco when he made the demand and threat, his eyes targeting Andy. This was not what the soldiers had expected, their captain was never cruel, he was stern, but never cruel. If only they could understand the depth of their mistake. Marco's hands shook violently as he reached down to his pants that were now around his thighs, undoing the leather belt and pulling it out from the loops of his pants. Not daring look up at the captain, Marco submitted and lifted the belt, which was snatched from his hand. In a gesture to rub salt in the wound and cause further pain, Chris moved his thick calf backwards until his heel was lifted back in the air, before his leg was thrust forward, the toe of his thick boot smashing against the exposed cock and balls of Marco. Marco could only yelp before curling into a fetal position. Chris kept his attention to Andy as he folded the belt, his hands taking each end, snapping the leather straps together loudly, and continuously. Piers flinched with each snap the belt made.

Andy forced an uncertain grin as he lifted his hands up into the air before he slowly stepped to the side, inadvertently moving closer to Piers. It was a bad idea. "That's what I'm talkin' about, Chris.. you showed him what for, right? Come on, captain.. Piers asked for it, you saw him at the bar.. he wanted a piece of me all night, I just gave him what he wanted." Andy continued to take steps to the side, attempting to move towards the door while he did. Chris methodically took a few steps forward, holding the folded leather belt in one hand as he looked down at Andy with an icy gaze. "I don't even like sick games, I mean.. come on, we're both grown men, right? Why don't we go let some steam off by cracking jokes about Agent Valentine's mangled cleavage? Who'd ever go for-" Chris hunched down with a burst of speed, wrapping his arms around the waist of Andy and lifting him clean off the ground while over his shoulder. Andy attempted to throw down a few elbows into the shoulder blades of Chris, but it was useless. Chris ran forward like a rhinoceros with Andy in his arms, and smashed head-on into the nearest wall in a collision that caused a crack in the wall. Andy struggled still by attempting to bring his knees forward into Chris' barrel chest, but he was slammed into the wall again, and again. Eventually, Andy was practically through the wall, and he slumped back against the crater his own body created, clutching his ribs with a hacking cough. Chris' face was red, and he wasn't done with Andy, not by a long shot. Andy had violated Piers, which.. which was wrong, that innocence was his, and he insulted Jill. Andy was going to the hospital, there was no debating this any more. As Chris stood before the slumped Andy, he reached down and gripped him by the throat with a brawny hand, forcing him to stand wobbly. Chris then got into combat stance, and began working the beaten body of Andy by throwing left hooks, right hooks. Each time his fist collided with the abdomen of Andy, there was the fleshy 'thud' of his knuckles against flesh and muscle, and he began throwing those hooks more rapidly, until Andy struggled to lift a hand in submission.

Chris' broad shoulders and pectorals heaved as he stopped. On any given day, he could have worked a punching bag for hours, but he wasn't going to knock Andy out, he made sure to hold his punches back enough to ensure that, fracture a rib and knock his diaphragm into uselessness perhaps, but not out cold. His boys could take a beating. Wrapping his powerful arm around Andy's head, his impossibly thick biceps pressed hard against the side of Andy's neck. Chris shoved him and bent him over the bed towards the foot of the bed, facing the bed frame. Turning to snatch up the belt that Marco had given him, he pressed his body against the backside of Andy's to keep him still, moving his arms and tying them firmly against the bottom bed frame with the leather belt. Chris growled into his ear: "This is how it's going to work. You're going to beg for my cock, because you're nothing but a comedic whore. That's how you like it right Andy? Mouthy little play by plays help you get it up?" Turning on the heel of his boot, Chris reached up to brush off his shoulder, just a bit sore from having gored Andy into the wall. Reaching down, he gripped Marco by the shirt, dragging him silently to the back of Andy's legs. "You're going to hold his legs in place so he doesn't move, Marco, that's how this works right? The team that takes advantage together gets punished together. If you let go, you get another turn." Marco still huddled in a ball, but he reached up to claw at Andy's calves until he reached the knees, hugging them tightly so they couldn't move. Chris then reached up and gripped Andy's pants by the waistline, yanking them down until they were below his bare ass, down to the back of his thighs. Andy was now bonded to the bed and bent over with his ass presented to the world.

Finally, Chris turned his attention to Piers. Chris would not hide the look of betrayal upon his face as he took a few steps towards him, placing a hand down upon his shoulder until Piers slid down upon his knees, Piers face looked up at the captain's crotch before looking at the captain. "You. I trusted you. I-.." Chris trailed off as his eyes softened for a moment. He never wanted this, but Piers gave himself to them, the looks he had given Chris now meant nothing. "Take my belt off. You were supposed to be better than this, and now? I have to do this." Piers had regained a bit of himself, although his ass felt as if it had been torn open, and he had one hell of a headache, but he met Chris' eyes with a look, but Chris wouldn't have it. Slowly, he reached up and slowly unbuckled Chris' belt, his face close to the warmth of the crotch. Without thinking, Piers leaned forward to press his face against the bulge in Chris' jeans while he carefully slit the studded belt through the loops, sighing quietly to himself until the belt was removed, wanting to stay in that moment. Chris abruptly turned away so that Piers nearly fell over where he knelt. Standing behind Andy as Marco clung to the legs, he folded his leather, studded belt, looking down at Andy's ass for a moment before he suddenly rose his arm, bringing the belt down so hard across the ass that Andy let out a scream, a red mark slashed across the cheek of his ass. Chris then brought the belt down upon the other cheek, spanking him harshly with it. Piers turned his head and swallowed dryly as his captain viciously whipped Andy with the belt. Eventually, Andy's entire ass was red and beaten, a few trickles of blood moving down his thighs. As if a trophy, Chris slid his belt back on, even with part of it being crimson, he clasped it in front of him. Carnage filled the room, both Andy and Marco each moaning in pain at their injuries.

Chris methodically approached Piers snatching up his disregarded pants, lifting him up from the ground gently. Wrapping an arm around his waist, he pulled him into the bathroom and shut the door, pressing Piers' back against the wall. No one needed to see this. Slipping down on one knee, he helped the younger man back into his pants, one hand on his thick broad shoulder to steady him while Chris gave a jerk to pull them up over his abused waist, his fingers working numbly to zip and button them in silence. Chris pressed his forehead against Piers, his dark brows furrowed, his face a grimace. "You gave yourself to them.. you just gave it to them." Chris sighed heavily as he turned to sit upon the toilet seat, his muscled forearms resting upon his knees. Piers moved carefully, ignoring the stabbing pain in his ass as he very slowly nudged Chris' arm out of the way, sitting down upon Chris' lap, an arm moving around the back of his neck. Piers pressed his boyish countenance against the scruffy side of Chris' face, but what was there to say? Piers had been under the influence, but it was his own arrogance of not backing down from any challenge that allowed him to take part in what happened. And it was evident the mix of confusion and missed signals were finally starting to him, the younger man swallowing back a hoarse apology. Chris stared straight forward, unblinking. Although it was nearly impossible to ignore Piers' scent, he even tilted his head towards the younger man's breathing it was silence for a minute, Chris letting himself take in what of this he could, slipping that thick muscled bicep around the man in his lap, tipping his head up to be caught by soft abused lips. They still tasted like bourbon and whiskey, saliva clinging to the corners of his mouth, but Chris didn't care, clutching the back of Piers' head to them together while he crushed his disappointment into the kiss, all the heat in his body flooding to his groin every time Piers would let out a shaky breath, actual blush coming to his face as their lips locked. It was tentatively uncertain at first, the sniper pulling back just the slightest to reaffirm it was really what he'd thought it had been and not just plain disappointment for his actions, but that Chris had actually been outraged to lose something that he considered his own. Immediately Chris' lips were on him, squeezing the back of his head with a large hand to tip his head to the side, swallowing his fury with those pillowy lips on his own.

Without thinking, in the haze of everything that had happened Piers wanted to make up for what happened, and so he slid down from the lap slowly, out of his captain's hands. Moving onto his knees in front of Chris, hands poised on his thighs, the captain couldn't help but reach forward, dragging his thumb over bitten and swollen lips. Those expressive eyes peered up at Chris as he moved his hands to undo the bloodied belt and jeans, reaching down to grip the thick, impressive girth of Chris' dick. Chris slowly moved backwards and leaned back while he sat, looking down upon Piers, who planted soft kisses across his crotch before his skillful digits lifted Chris' cock to his face, pursing his pouted lips to give the tip of his cock a kiss, which brought a sigh from the captain's lips. Kid was intoxicating on his own, Chris didn't need the whiskey in his own system to momentarily forget everything that had happened. Piers slowly opened his mouth, leaning forward to take the captain's cock within his mouth and moved forward as he hungrily began taking inch by inch past his lips. Piers didn't need alcohol or restraints with Chris, his eyes were locked on him apologetically even through his haze. Moving his warm, moist tongue against the underside of the thick cock, his boyish cheeks sucked inward each time he moved his head back, bobbing his head slowly. Chris gave a guttural groan as he leaned back, watching as the sniper's head bobbed in his lap, clenching a fist in pleasure, before suddenly the fist moved like a viper, smashing into the right eye of Piers' and immediately knocking him out, Piers' mouth slipping off the cock as his head snapped back, crumbling to the floor in front of his captain. "Next time, you ask for permission while you're sober, 'golden boy'."

Standing up from the seat of the toilet, he quickly zipped up and buttoned his pants groaning over the half stock he'd got from Piers little side show, stepping out of the bathroom and stepping past the two ravaged men who leaned against the bed, trying to recover from their wounds. Piers had evidently been passed the point of conceiving anything he had said, drunkenness and pain, mixed with regret and who knew what. Yes it was what he wanted, to see the younger man on his knees apologizing for giving up what was rightfully his to these jokers, but not like that. Honestly part of him hoped the kid didn't remember any of it. How eagerly he'd dropped to his knees like it was second nature to apologize with someone's cock in your mouth... He knew Piers though, knew him well enough to know everything about tonight was the drinks. He'd give Andy and Marco his own beat down tomorrow after his head stopped ringing from Chris' fist. Then he'd see about teaching Piers proper discipline... Chris reached into his leather jacket, snatching up his cigarettes and his cell phone, plucking out a cigarette and placing it between his lips, flipping his lighter open to light it as he pressed a single number on his cell phone, inhaling a deep breath from the cigarette before blowing out a stream of smoke. "Jill. I'm gonna need a clean-up crew and medics, the boys partied like a hurricane in my room and blew off steam after the bar incident. Andy actually busted up the wall a bit, the nerve of that guy. Yeah, I'll report in soon. Take care."

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**Even after having written the last two chapters I have decided that this is the end. I like a good ending. And the other chapters wouldn't have appeased me. SO! I appreciate all the love on this fic and I'm glad you guys liked it as much as you did! I appreciate the reviews so much, and continue to enjoy them. Maybe if this continues to get well wishes I'll do another Alpha Team story! Thanks for understanding guys!**


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